Secrets of the Heart
by artemis-nz
Summary: Yuuri holds a secret that even he is not fully aware of. Conrad/Yuuri.
1. Chapter 1

Yuuri was hiding something, and Conrad did not like it one bit.

Of course, neither did anyone else.

Yuuri hiding something could mean a lot of different things, none of which were particularly good. There was the 'hiding-that-I-haven't-been-doing-my-paperwork' Yuuri for a start. That was one of the more harmless so-called secrets. There was also the 'I've-been-sneaking-away-from-my-lessons' Yuuri; again, while distressing in the extreme to one specific person, it was not especially a cause for alarm. From there, Yuuri hiding something could progress to an 'I'm-smuggling-a-fugitive-in-the-cellar-and-have-been-feeding-him-my-dinner-leftovers' kind of level, which was slightly more disquieting (and would also explain why Yuuri hadn't been eating anywhere near as much recently). But somehow, Conrad did not think that this was the case, either. Finally, there were the entirely too serious scenarios: 'I'm-planning-a-lone-rescue-mission-of-a-human-village', for example, or even something like, 'I've-actually-come-down-with-a-fatal-disease-but-don't-want-to-tell-anyone.' Out of all of these, the final two were, judging by Yuuri's expression of late, by far the likeliest. However, various interrogation methods by almost every concerned castle inhabitant had thrown up nothing. Conrad, who knew Yuuri and the way his mind worked better than anyone, was completely stumped.

Meanwhile, whatever secret Yuuri _was_ hiding was beginning to take its toll.

He looked tired, all the time, despite a lessening of work of late. He ate when he was expected to, but merely picked at his food and constantly excused himself early from the table. When Conrad made a discreet enquiry about how His Majesty was sleeping, Yuuri only shrugged and evaded the question. Josak, who Conrad had turned to in sheer desperation after watching Yuuri seemingly waste away in front of his very eyes, could report only that Yuuri often paced his room at night, but that nothing drastic was visibly amiss.

When Yuuri had progressed to the point of fidgeting nervously whenever he was in one place for too long, jumping a mile in the air whenever he was startled by a loud noise or someone coming up behind him, and outright avoiding others to the point of reclusiveness, Conrad came to the decision that it was time to step in himself.

He felt only slightly guilty, following Yuuri in the morning. It not his place to interfere in His Majesty's business, particularly if that business was private… but the simple sight of Yuuri walking like that; head down, shoulders tensed, a despondent expression that suited him not at all… Conrad found that he did not care if he was caught after all, if only he could find out what was troubling his King so.

So he observed, without really appearing to, as Yuuri forced himself to partake of one of two mouthfuls of the morning meal. He listened outside Yuuri's office and heard only the familiar sounds of paper being shuffled and sorted, the low scratching of quill against parchment. He came in personally later on with the usual tray of assorted snacks, having already had a quiet word to the maid whose duty this normally was. He then watched, with sinking heart, as Yuuri murmured his thanks while all the while avoiding eye contact, and ate one of the cookies thoughtfully baked by Greta purely for appearances sake. It was plainly obvious that, had Conrad not been in the room, Yuuri would not have touched the food. When Conrad, getting more apprehensive by the second, excused himself with a slight bow, he could not help but immediately note that Yuuri did not correct him for the formality. Did not even look up, in fact, when Conrad left the room.

At lunchtime, Yuuri did not appear at all.

Conrad tracked him down to a secluded spot in the library, where Yuuri leaned against a back window and had curled himself up into a tight ball of abject misery. Conrad did not disturb him, but stayed unobtrusively close until Yuuri roused himself, almost an hour later, to go outside for some fresh air. Here, Conrad lost Yuuri for a few minutes; he could not have continued to follow Yuuri without being seen if he did not go a separate way. By the time he had caught up with his wayward King, several more minutes had passed. The soldier made a point of ensuring that Yuuri saw and heard his approach in plenty of time, but Yuuri looked uneasy even so. He still would not meet Conrad's eyes.

Even here, in the warming comfort of the sun and sitting beside by the well-kept garden that he had always seemed so fond of, Yuuri appeared almost fragile. Conrad took a chance.

"Are you well, Heika?"

"I… yes."

They both heard the lie in his voice, and Yuuri was already getting shifty.

"Can I assist you with anything? You seem a little… distracted, of late."

"No, there's nothing." His reply came out too rushed, too eager to divert Conrad's attention.

Conrad felt another stab of guilt, but played his card anyway. "Yuuri… are you certain there's nothing on your mind? I've been… that is, everyone is worried about you."

Yuuri's eyes widened for a moment, and his cheeks burned. Then, just as quickly, he paled again, and shook his head, casting his eyes downward. "I didn't mean to make anyone worry about me", he whispered to the ground. "But there really is nothing."

Conrad left him there, Yuuri's body language practically screaming at him that Conrad's presence only made him doubly uncomfortable. The soldier retreated to the castle balcony, looking on from the shadows as Yuuri slowly stood and began to walk away, no doubt in search of a more private spot.

Conrad would have admitted defeat for the time being and gone to catch up on his own missed duties if something about Yuuri's form in the distance had not held his attention.

It was nearing an early sunset, and Yuuri was silhouetted against the landscape for a moment, his black clothing distinct against a golden-red glow. From behind, Yuuri's figure looked both striking and timeless, bathed as it was in the final burst of light of the day. His head was tilted upwards to the sky, as if Yuuri might take wing at any moment and escape whatever inner torment he was trapped within.

But something was wrong, dreadfully wrong. Conrad stood tersely, staring after Yuuri, some deeper instinct warning him of the fact that not all was as quite as it seemed. Something about Yuuri walking away from him, his figure now wavering from the heat of the sun's rays-

And then Conrad was running, desperately sprinting, before his mind had even caught up with how his body was reacting. Yuuri was still wavering back and forth in front of his eyes, the sun no longer the culprit. The world narrowed in Conrad's awareness: the heat, the ever-present sound of crickets, his own breath – none of it existed anymore. There was only himself, the rhythmic thumping of his sturdy boots upon the ground and the straining of his body as it attempted to get there in time, the faltering Yuuri now just out of arms length-

Yuuri's knees were already buckling beneath him by the time Conrad was close enough to reach out and save his fall, head-first. The young ruler made not a sound, did not even move as Conrad gently lowered him to the ground and turned him over.

Even as a part of his mind was still scrambling to recover its composure, another part was already instructing Conrad quite detachedly to check Yuuri's breathing, his pulse, his temperature.

Yuuri could have simply been asleep for all any of this gave away. His breathing was peaceful enough, his pulse perhaps only slightly faster against Conrad's fingertips than was normal. There was no fever; Yuuri's skin felt mildly warm against his hand, but that was only to be expected from the natural heat of the day. There was no indication that Yuuri was in any pain, and a brisk check showed that there was no injury that Conrad could discern.

"_Yuuri._" He did not stir at his name being called. Conrad picked him up and strode back, as quickly as he could without jostling his charge. Yuuri remained a dead weight in his arms.

The noise and bustle of the castle – not inconsiderable as soon as Yuuri's condition was discovered – did not rouse him either. Gisela was on hand to give him a more thorough examination, and Conrad did not like the frown he saw on her face as her hand moved over Yuuri's unconscious form. For several moments, all was silent. The castle itself held its breath as Gisela worked, a greenish glow emitting from her hands.

At last, Gisela stood from where she had been kneeling. "There's nothing wrong with him." Waiting edgily for the sudden hubbub of voices to recede, she went on, "Nothing that I can see. Yuuri-heika's body seems to have simply shut down, but there is nothing I am able to see or feel that would explain why. No injury, either external or internal. No medical illness, nor poison, nor anything else I can find. This is…" She trailed off. 'Strange' seemed too insignificant a word to describe the general sentiment of the room's occupants. The visible worry of even the stalwart Gwendal was palpable.

It was as a second loud eruption of questions and opinions was raised that Yuuri finally shifted slightly. All attention was instantly diverted to the young man on the bed, who was evidently in the midst of finally waking. His hands clenched and unclenched several times, and he frowned slightly before opening his eyes.

"Um… what-"

In the third outbreak of simultaneous voices, Gisela sent nearly everyone aside from her patient from the room with a glare that nobody dared disobey. Only Wolfram, Gunter, Gwendal, and Conrad remained within. Her attention now undivided, she gazed at Yuuri frankly. "How do you feel, Heika? Please be honest."

"… I'm fine. I feel fine."

"Hmm." Her hand stole up to his forehead again, and she shook her head in consternation. "Can you recall what happened?"

Yuuri turned his head to the window, away from everyone else. "I… I think I was too tired. Or too hot. But I couldn't see all of a sudden- my vision went funny, and I suddenly felt dizzy- and I thought if I closed my eyes for a second then they would clear." His voice was halting, a note of panic discernable in his voice to anyone who listened well enough. "I guess not though."

"You don't have a fever. It's possible you were just dehydrated, but…" Gisela looked like she might say something further, but appeared to settle for reaching for a small basin and washcloth that had been brought in. She had already dipped the cloth into the cool water there and placed it on Yuuri's forehead before Yuuri had been able to register what was going on.

"No!" He shot bolt upright in fright.

"Heika, what's wrong?!"

"Yuuri!"

Gisela, for her part, ignored the cries of alarm and picked up the damp cloth from where it had fallen, turning it over to examine the underside. Her expression upon seeing it was an odd mixture of both satisfaction and deep concern. "Heika… how long?"

Yuuri seemed unable to tear his eyes away from the intensity of her gaze. "I… I don't…" He swallowed, seeing there was no way out of the question. "A couple of weeks. I borrowed it from Lady Celi but I didn't tell her why."

"Heika, what is-"

Gisela raised a hand for silence, and dipped the washcloth into the basin again, wetting it more thoroughly. Yuuri had turned his head to the window again, bearing with Gisela's ministrations as his face was wiped clean. Only when Gisela was sure that she was finished did she pass the washcloth back for Conrad to see.  
The powder showed up starkly against the dark material, and as Yuuri closed his eyes in defeat and turned his face back towards them, the others immediately understood.

The deep circles under his eyes were made all the more apparent for the near-ghostly pallor of his skin. They stood out like bruises now that the cosmetic powder was no longer there to mask them. The too-sharp angles of his face, the hollows of his cheekbones, were all the more pronounced by these facts.

"I'm sorry", he said quietly, eyes still shut in defence of what he might see were he to open them. "I didn't mean for you to find out. But I couldn't tell you. I didn't know how."

There was a stunned silence, before Gisela turned around and looked at them. "I believe I need to talk with Yuuri-heika alone." There was no arguing with that tone of voice. Her eyes were a deadly, frozen calm in their resolve, but she levelled a quick glance towards Conrad before turning back to Yuuri. The soldier took the hint, and retreated to the dimmest corner of the room while Wolfram, Gunter and Gwendal left, closing the door quietly behind them. If any of them wondered why Conrad had been more or less ordered to remain unobtrusively behind, they said not a word.

"Yuuri." Gisela's voice was soft and non-accusing. There was a time to be aggressive in her line of work, but this was not it. "Won't you look at me?" After a moment, Yuuri obediently opened his eyes.

"I'm not going to ask for an explanation for now – I just want to ask a few simple questions. Alright?" Yuuri gave a nod, his expression still a mask of fear.

"You say you've been using Lady Celi's powder for around two weeks. Have you not been sleeping since then? Or perhaps longer than that?"

Yuuri's voice sounded like it was being forcibly ripped from his throat. "Longer. A month maybe. It started…" At Gisela's nod of encouragement, he continued. "It started a while ago actually. I just didn't know it. I thought I was just overtired, or coming down with a cold. But I had trouble sleeping at nights. It was only in the last month that it got bad. Some nights I wouldn't sleep at all."

"That's good, Yuuri. What else? Have you been eating?"

Conrad's stomach clenched as he watched Yuuri shake his head. "No."

"Also for a month?"

"I don't… maybe. Yes. I felt nervous all the time, like maybe there was something important I was forgetting every day, or something bad was going to happen. Nothing did, but the feeling just kept getting worse. When I try to eat, I can't-" His voice broke off. Ashamed, he looked away.

"You throw it back up?"

"Yes." Huskily, he added, "I try not to. I hate it, but- but after a while it was like my body just couldn't hold it. Sometimes not even for a few minutes. I couldn't… I couldn't tell anyone. Not when I didn't know the reason why myself."

There was another long silence, before Gisela stood back upright and nodded decisively, as if she had made up her mind about something at long last. "Alright. That's all for now, Heika." Yuuri sagged against the pillows in relief, drained of all energy. "Please rest for now, and drink some water if you think your stomach can handle it, or if you start to feel dizzy again. I will be back again later to check up on you, but right now you must sleep if you can, and just relax as much as possible if you cannot. Understand?"

Yuuri nodded, his sheer exhaustion evident. He exhaled sharply, perhaps in relief, as Gisela exited the room. She glanced at Conrad again as she passed, although she kept her silence. Her eyes seemed to challenge him: _Now what?_ Conrad was at a loss himself, but could not bring himself to leave.

So he said nothing as Yuuri rolled over onto his side, away from the door and from Conrad's corner, and did not move from his spot until Yuuri had fallen into a fitful state of half-sleep, all the while wondering just what he was to do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors note: Apologies to everyone who's been expecting more work from me of late. As some of you may already be aware, I've begun writing my PhD this year – so for two and a half more years, that's where my main focus needs to be. However, I'll absolutely still be writing fanfiction when I can, and spreading the ConYuu love especially. Thank you for everyone who's sticking with me on this – I love reading your reviews as well as your own stories, and I hope to continue writing for this fandom (and others), for a great many years yet.**

**Incidentally, I myself have no idea where this story is headed. As of yet, I have no idea at all how I'll be concluding the fic - the third and final chapter may be a little longer coming because of this. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy the story. :)  
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Yuuri's eyes were fully closed again by the time Conrad finally moved at all. The soldier walked with great care over to the bedside, as if even stepping too heavily would result in some calamity.

And perhaps it would. He did not think that he now knew Yuuri as he should – as he once did. The Yuuri from two years, one year, even six months ago, was not the same Yuuri that Conrad saw lying so still before him. That Yuuri had been somehow carefree, at least in spirit, despite all that rested on his young shoulders. That Yuuri had been always ready with a smile and a heart untouched by the pain that the current Yuuri was now evidently experiencing. That Yuuri… he had been _happy_.

What, then, had changed?

The parting of ways with Wolfram? It had been a stormy few weeks after Yuuri had officially broken off the engagement, and yet as far as Conrad could tell, the two remained on good terms. In fact, aside from the two now sleeping in separate chambers, very little else – if anything at all – had changed in their relationship. Yuuri had borne it all with the same cheerful resilience that he did with everything else.

Had anything else changed? The affairs of the state, while never completely stable, were currently as peaceful as any of them could have hoped for – more, indeed, than some had dared hope for to begin with. There was work – there was always work – but none of it as physically or emotionally taxing as Yuuri had needed to deal with in previous times.

Was all well with his family? He had visited them scarce weeks ago, and Yuuri had not mentioned anything amiss. In any case, Conrad could not conceive of anything so terribly wrong in that department that Yuuri would not have been able to express. He was open about his family; open about everything. Some would have said that Yuuri wore his heart on his sleeve. Conrad rather thought it was one of Yuuri's charms – how could such honesty not be respected in an as yet very young man with such a heavy burden to carry?

So what had Conrad missed? Was he, after all, not so nearly observant as he had once believed? Had he slipped so suddenly yet so quickly that he had not recognised his folly until it was far too late? Yuuri's very face told him so.

He knelt beside the bed, one hand automatically moving to brush the bangs from Yuuri's eyes before he realised it. "Ah, Yuuri. What a mess I've gotten us into."

Yuuri gave a soft sigh in his sleep before opening his eyes.

They stared at Conrad uncomprehendingly, half-lidded pools of obsidian. Conrad whipped his hand away as if stung, feeling as though he had been caught out with something improper.

"Conrad… no. I'm dreaming, I think."

Certainly Yuuri was not fully awake, his mind aware of what it saw in front of him, but not of the context in which it saw them. His gaze, far from panicked or troubled as it had been scarcely an hour ago, was almost tranquil.

"This is a dream", he repeated slowly. "So you can put your hand back, if you want."

Conrad blinked in surprise, but did as Yuuri bid him. His fingers tangled softly in the dark strands of Yuuri's hair as if they belonged there.

"I shouldn't be dreaming you know. I shouldn't be asleep at all."

The conversation felt to Conrad like it should indeed be taking part in a dream; he could make no sense of what Yuuri was saying. The young ruler was obviously tired; excruciatingly so. Why should he not want to sleep?

"Are nightmares bothering you?" he wondered out loud.

But Yuuri shifted his head slightly against the pillow. "I have good dreams", he said, and his voice still retained its trance-like quality. "I can't sleep because I shouldn't have them."

"Heika?" It was all Conrad was able to reply, his mind still clouded with confusion, and Yuuri frowned.

"Why…? No, never mind. And it's all right you don't understand. I never explained it to you in my dreams either, so your dream-self wouldn't know."

"Hei- Yuuri. Could you try to explain it now?"

Yuuri closed his eyes and did not speak for a long moment – long enough that Conrad could not be certain if Yuuri had now fallen asleep completely. He was debating whether or not to get up when Yuuri spoke again, eyes still closed. His voice was drowsier still.

"I don't know if I can. Will you wait?"

"Of course."

Yuuri sighed then, his eyebrows knitting together as he thought. "I thought, once I had managed to sort everything out with Wolf, things would get easier. I thought it would be okay, because he and I… we were just friends, all along. He knew it too, and that's why…"

Conrad waited.

"… That's why we're still friends now. We both understood we couldn't go on pretending. And it took a while, but for a bit, things really were good. He doesn't yell as much now, did you notice?" Yuuri's mouth curved gently upwards in a smile, and without waiting for an answer, he continued: "So it was fine, at first, when I started dreaming about things. I thought, there was no reason to be… to be unhappy, when I had what I thought I wanted. Do you see?"

"I don't. Yuuri, what did you think you wanted?"

Yuuri smiled again. "You're always concerned about me, even in my dreams. But…", and here his smile faded, to be replaced by a sorrowful expression. "But that's all it is when I wake up. What I always took for granted ever since I arrived here- it wasn't enough after all. It wasn't, and I didn't know what to do. You were always _there_, just there, whenever you had to be. I never meant to give that up. I felt greedy."

Conrad's hand instantly stilled from where it had been gently shifting. "I don't understand." But something now shifted inside of him instead, replacing the movement of his hand, and he was suddenly afraid that he did understand, and too well. "Yuuri?"

Conrad had to lean forward to hear Yuuri's next words, barely discernable even in the silent room. "It's okay. Do you know? I won't remember this when I wake up anyway… I never do. I remember everything when I'm asleep, and forget it all later. I'm still sad when I wake up, though, even if I don't know why…" His voice trailed off into nothing, and Yuuri did not move again, even when Conrad took his hand away from where it had been resting.

Too late. It was too late, he realised. Yuuri had been asking, wordlessly, for help – _his_ help – all along, and Conrad hadn't been there. He hadn't been by Yuuri's side when he was needed the most.

Conrad's fingers automatically made their way to Yuuri's neck; a defensive measure more than anything, as his mind struggled to comprehend what he had just been told. The King's pulse beat sluggishly beneath his touch. He truly was asleep, then. Conrad hoped, for the moment, that Yuuri would remain that way for some time yet. The circles underneath Yuuri's eyes were now Conrad's personal shame.

He left the room then, unable to remain within when he had been dealt such a blow.

He was neither angry nor surprised to find Josak leaning against the wall just to the left of the doorway. His pose was nonchalant in body language, but there was a strange tenseness about him too. He glanced up at Conrad as the door shut behind them, not attempting to act as though he had merely been passing by.

"I expect you heard all of that?"

"Most of it", Josak replied. "What will you do now?"

"What _can_ I do? Yuuri is… he no longer trusts me. Why should he?"

Josak became dangerously still. "What did you say?"

Conrad's hands balled into fists in frustration. "Why do you make me repeat myself? I assure you, I cannot feel any more guilty than I already do."

"Conrart, I've known you a long time, but if you keep this up-"

"_What would you have me do?_" Conrad hissed, his composure broken. "Apologise? As if that would help the situation any. Pretend as if nothing happened? Break his heart – again?"

"Are you being intentionally dense?" Josak sounded almost as heated as Conrad did. "Do you even _think_ before you open your mouth anymore?"

"… How dare you?" Conrad was not a man made easily furious. He was furious now; his eyes glittered almost frighteningly. "How _dare_ you stand there and make light of-"

Josak's own clenched fist thumped against the wall. If Conrad was angry, Josak was now livid. Of all those people that Conrad had known throughout his life, Josak was the only one who seemed either brave enough, or foolish enough, to remain in Conrad's sight after provoking him to rage. "Are you _blind? _The kid just poured his heart out to you, and you of all people don't see what's been happening, right in front of your eyes? I'm surprised Yuuri-heika still cares so much at all, given that you seem bent on avoiding every single thing he's been trying to tell you!"

"I've told you, Yuuri's trust-"

"That's not what this is about!"

There was a crowd gathering at the end of the hallway as their voices gradually rose in volume, unable to ignore the heated argument, yet none of them unwise enough to come between them.

Heedless of their stunned audience, Josak glared at Conrad, looking for the first time in years as if he might actually punch his Captain. Certainly he wished to; Conrad saw how Josak forcibly held himself back from doing so, muscles twitching in agitation.

Conrad, in turn, lowered his voice, although his words grew in intensity. "If you assume for a moment that Yuuri does not mean everything to me-"

"_IDIOT!_" Josak roared out the word, and did not wait for Conrad to reply. "He loves you! He _loves_ you! Don't you get it?! All this time, it's been about you! It's _always_ been about you, and you've just been to goddamn self-centred to see it! Yuuri's literally made himself sick over you, because he doesn't even understand what he's been feeling all this time, and you're not going to do anything about it?!"

There was not the slightest sound to be heard as Josak's voice died away, other than Josak's own harsh breathing from his outburst. Attempting to regain some control, he only levelled a glare at Conrad once more before striding down the hallway, away from Conrad as quickly as his body would take him without running. The crowd parted like the red sea, as if even one glance from the man might result in some unspeakable consequence. As well it might; few had suspected that Josak was capable of expressing such fury towards one of his own.

They stared at Conrad once Josak had disappeared from view. Conrad stared back, although he could make out no specific face within the crowd. In reality, he could see nothing at all; his eyes were blank, his face utterly devoid of expression, as Josak's words chased themselves around in his head.

_He loves you… it's always been about you… he doesn't even understand what he's been feeling…_

Yes. Of course. He could see it all now. He just hadn't wanted to. Always, it had only been about what was proper. What was appropriate. Yuuri had been looking for more. Conrad had not given anything in return for those expectations. And Yuuri had thought- god, he must have thought that Conrad… that he could not have cared so very much for him after all. And no wonder he had not been sleeping, nor eating… his body wasting away along with his hopes. Dreams of what could have been would have only made things worse, if waking meant that he had to face what he perceived as being an unalterable reality. So he had strived simply to stop dreaming. Stop sleeping. Stop believing-

And all the while, Conrad had indeed been blind to that suffering. He hadn't understood, because he hadn't really wanted to. Because he hadn't believed it was a politically correct match? Because he hadn't wanted to place any pressure on Yuuri? Because he didn't think Yuuri was yet capable of feeling what he did at all?

Suddenly, these reasons seemed hollow. Selfish, even. He had thought he was being attentive. Truth to tell, he had not even sought out the right answers, too afraid of what he might find. But found them he had-

A loud bang abruptly distracted him from these thoughts. He whipped around, suddenly aware of his surroundings once more. Yuuri's door stayed firmly closed, but-

Once jerked open, he saw at once that the bed was empty, the blankets hastily discarded by their inhabitant. The room was completely silent, and the window gaped wide open – the only thing showing beyond it was a rapidly darkening sky.

Conrad wasted no time. He left the room at a sprint, heedlessly pushing startled people out of the way, gasping in his haste. He passed Gwendal, Gunter, Wolfram- he ran past them all as if they did not exist, sparing not a glance back at them.

Yuuri. Only Yuuri. That was all. Just like before, only far, far worse. If he had felt earlier in the day that something was wrong, now he felt a chilling premonition of something unspeakable creeping down his spine, perhaps preventing him from getting there quite quickly enough. Not enough, not enough- his heart echoed this beat.

It was not yet quite wholly night outside. Sufficient light left, just, to see a figure rushing for the fountain. Water. To take him back-

"_Yuuri!_"

But Yuuri was already stepping up to the stones bordering his way of flight. And this time, Conrad knew with an awful certainty, there was no getting there fast enough. His body would not break Yuuri's fall now. The only thing that would was the cold, unforgiving water that would guide Yuuri home. Away from Shin Makoku. Away from Conrad.

"_PLEASE!_"

Yuuri looked back just as Conrad flung out a desperate hand, eyes wide in terror.

He jumped.


	3. Chapter 3

**There is still an epilogue to come. Until then, hope you enjoy.**

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There was an almighty splash. Yuuri, never overly graceful to begin with, had simply jumped as hurriedly as he could, his body landing awkwardly in the cold water of the fountain. Conrad, not prepared to waste a moment, leapt after him, heedless of his uniform, his dignity, nor anything else other than catching hold of Yuuri before the inevitable whirlpool appeared.

Arms already stretched out to do so, he grasped Yuuri by the wrist and clung grimly on. Yuuri himself, aware that his escape was being hindered and already in a state of panic, thrashed wildly in the water, sinking them both. Yuuri's eyes were closed, an automatic response to his submersion, and his only thought was to get away, unaware of what he was really doing. The soldier therefore paid no mind to the sharp kick to his chest, nor his hand being thumped in an effort by Yuuri to free himself from Conrad's grip. His own eyes open, Conrad's only reaction was to pulleYuuri close to his chest, effectively smothering Yuuri's actions and preventing him from hurting either of them in his terror.

Bracing himself for what was to come, Conrad tightened his grip further, praying that Yuuri would forgive him for any bruises he might gain as a result.

Yuuri's body flailing violently about as it was, stirring up masses of bubbles and currents, it took a moment for Conrad to realise that the whirlpool they were both expecting had not arrived at all. For whatever reason, Yuuri was not being transported back to Earth.

Seeming to realise this just after Conrad, Yuuri's body abruptly went limp. He seemed to have given up all hope of flight at last, and allowed Conrad to guide him back up to the surface.

They broke air with a gasp. Yuuri, half-choking, half-sobbing, was otherwise unresponsive as Conrad hauled them both from the water and onto dry land. He would not look at Conrad, who lay beside him and was still holding onto Yuuri as though he might yet disappear at any moment. Only when he heard the running footsteps and alarmed cries from nearby did Yuuri seem to finally come back to himself. He struggled again, futilely, against Conrad's embrace, and when Conrad pulled him closer to his body still, Yuuri buried his head into Conrad's chest and began to howl.

Conrad could make out a very little of what Yuuri was practically screaming, the words stifled as they were against Conrad, and what he heard did not make much sense anyway. He let Yuuri cry them, only half-listening, his attention focused more on Yuuri himself – his heartbeat, his shivering form, the weight of him pressed flush against his own body, even his scent, uniquely Yuuri – these were all the things that made up Yuuri, _his_ Yuuri, and he had nearly lost them all.

"-didn't know, how could I, and you never said anything-"

Yuuri's voice was hysterical. He was beyond panic now, beyond rational thought. At this point, he was spilling his very self, unable to hold back the torrent of emotions any longer. And it had already been far too long, Conrad knew, for it to result in the condition Yuuri was now in.

"-tried to tell you, but how could I when I had no idea myself, and everyone must have known the entire time and didn't say anything either-"

Slowly, Yuuri's anguished sobs reduced themselves to whimpers, and then to slight hiccoughs. His voice softened and eventually faded completely, and the tension gripping him began melting away until he simply lay there, utterly spent, inside the protective circle of Conrad's arms.

He made a pretence of sleep as he was lifted up and carried back to the castle. Conrad gazed at Yuuri and only just in front of him as he walked – he, too, wished he could avoid the world at this moment, and fancied that others were still staring at him accusingly as he strode down the corridor. He knew he deserved their hostility, but could not bring himself to face it just yet. Not with Yuuri like this, still in his arms. Not when he did not feel up to facing his own self-loathing at what he had wrought in his carelessness.

Back in Yuuri's bedroom, there was a flurry of hushed activity as Yuuri was dried off and changed into clothes that were not soaking wet. Yuuri bore all of this fuss with silent resignation, waiting for the time when he could be left alone with his thoughts. He watched, seemingly unmindful, as people began to file out, one by one.

It was thus that Conrad found himself alone in the room almost before he knew it, still thoroughly sodden and trapped by the hurt in Yuuri's eyes as his King looked at him.

"Yuuri, I-"

"No. Please don't say anything. I just… Conrad, it's not…" Conrad waited, feeling every bit as miserable as Yuuri looked now. "I never asked for you to love me back. All I really wanted was for you to let me love you."

The only sound that came from the room after this revelation was the steady dripping of Conrad's saturated uniform on the floor. Conrad's heartbreak, in turn, was completely silent as he exited the room.

He passed Gisela on the way out. She met his distraught look with a thoughtful gaze of her own, and shook her head, although not in anger.

The next few days passed everyone by with a kind of frozen acceptance.

Yuuri was already up and out of bed by the following morning, determined that, if nothing else, he must at least make a show of appearing healthier. Whatever had transpired the night before between His Majesty and Gisela was kept a secret. Certainly nobody dared ask Gisela herself, who was evidently unwavering in keeping her silence. Yuuri, meanwhile, quietly resumed his own regular activities about the castle, and affected not to notice if any given room tended to undergo an immediate hush whenever he happened to walk by. Taking their cue from him, there were no more questions asked directly about what had occurred – perhaps because, now that Yuuri appeared at least to be eating again, the general consensus was that it seemed best to let sleeping dogs lie. As the King sat for his first proper dinner with others after what people deemed to be The Incident, there was an almost audible sigh of collective relief as he took his first bite. Yuuri flushed a little, and made a point of remaining seated at the table for the entirety of the meal.

The weather remained warm and calm as Yuuri sat for his lessons with Gunter. If Gunter noticed that Yuuri looked to the window more often than was necessary, outside of which Conrad was busy exercising his troops, he did not attempt to focus Yuuri's attention on his lessons any more than it already was. If Wolfram, who still enjoyed having Yuuri as a model for his paintings, thought that Yuuri was an altogether too gloomy subject, he called Yuuri a wimp half-heartedly at best.

Conrad and Yuuri interacted quickly and efficiently whenever the two happened to cross paths. If Conrad no longer offered games of baseball, if Yuuri no longer lingered in Conrad's presence longer than was strictly necessary, they at least conversed with a semblance of normalcy when conversation absolutely could not be avoided; polite, but distant.

Perhaps surprisingly to some, it was Josak and Gwendal who Yuuri eventually turned to when things once again became too much to bear with alone. Josak spent time outside the castle with Yuuri one late afternoon for over an hour, inside the stable where their discussion was overheard only by the horses. Of this particular meeting, it was whispered that Yuuri had asked Josak to at least attempt a reconciliation with Conrad. What Josak had talked about in turn with Yuuri was anyone's guess.

When Yuuri had, somewhat nervously, knocked on Gwendal's office door the following day, it was heard that Gwendal had admitted Yuuri immediately and without question. There were no raised voices, and no tears shed. Once again, the exact contents of their conversation remained a mystery to everyone else within castle walls. It was noted, however, that it was a far calmer and more self-possessed Yuuri who came out than the Yuuri who had entered earlier on. While still slightly pale and more than slightly uncommunicative, there could be no doubt that Yuuri was regaining at least some of his former strength, if not his former happiness.

The strain between Conrad and Yuuri was as yet unresolved, and remained so until nearly a full two weeks later, when Conrad took an opportunity presented to him (perhaps Josak had something to do with said opportunity, and perhaps not. Neither was telling).

In any event, Conrad found himself approached by Yuuri one evening rather than the other way around, if only accidentally. The copious amounts of steam from the royal baths masked Conrad's form as Yuuri, exhausted from yet another day's worth of still-building tension, slipped tiredly into the hot water, sighing as he felt it envelop him with the promise of relaxation. He had already waded out so that the water came up to his shoulders before he noticed Conrad, who had been silently observing from the other end of the pool.

"Conrad! Oh, um… that is, I can go if-"

"Please stay, Heika. _Yuuri_. I will leave if you wish, but may I at least speak with you a while?"

"I… yes."

Conrad moved closer so that they met in the middle, careful not to touch Yuuri or otherwise scare him off.

"Yuuri… what happened that night. I need to apologise properly for it. I know that what I did… what I did not do… is unforgivable. I'm truly sorry for hurting you, Yuuri. I will accept any punishment that you see fit to bestow. And if- if you do nothing… then I will accept that too."

"Conrad…" Yuuri had not cried since it had happened. He felt himself grow teary-eyed now, at what he had lost.

"Josak talked to me about a few things this morning. He did not betray your confidences, but he did say… he did make a few things clear to me. Yuuri, I have been foolish. Inexcusably so. I cannot take back the things that have occurred, as much as I would like to. If I could take back any of the pain I know you still feel, I would do so in an instant."

"Things can't just go back the way they were", Yuuri murmured, half to himself.

"That's true. But they cannot stay the way they are now, either. _I_ cannot continue on like this."

"Conrad! Are you… you're not… you can't-"

"Yuuri?" Conrad's voice, thick with concern, came closer.

"You can't leave!" Yuuri gasped. "You _can't!_ Not after- not when I-"

"I was not talking about leaving."

"You- you weren't?"

"No. Rather, I was speaking of something else entirely. But I need to make my own feelings clear first. Because I love you, you see."

"You…"

"Love you. Yes."

"I- you- but-"

"Yuuri. If it's too late, then-" He swallowed painfully. "-Then I will leave. But if, by some miracle, it is not, then… I need you to know now that I want to stay with you, by your side."

"…"

"Josak informed me, in no uncertain terms, that I needed to be honest about what I want, and not what I thought you wanted, or what I considered to be… proper. So I am being honest with you – with myself – now."

And it was only now, Yuuri realised in a daze, that he knew Conrad to be nervous. _Nervous_. That word had never seemed applicable to the soldier before this. Conrad was always, always the calm one. The self-assured one. The one everyone could count on when they were in a pinch. The one…

… The one who had always been afraid to ask for what he wanted, too busy concerning himself with what others wanted, and what face he himself presented to those others. Too afraid by far to reveal his vulnerability to anyone, least of all those he cared about the most, lest he become weakened by it. Lest he go backwards, to the person he had once been and who he had finally been able to leave behind one day. Too afraid to look back lest he see that person again, peering over his shoulder.

"Yuuri."

It made sense now that Yuuri saw it like this. He had thought Conrad to be unshakable – to the point of also being untouchable. Conrad purposefully turned people away with his ever-present but misleading smile, because that smile meant that his façade remained firmly in place. Small wonder then, perhaps, that Yuuri could not have admitted his own feelings towards Conrad even to himself when it meant that he might simply be turned away like all the others. Smiled at, and then softly, tenderly, rejected by that same smile. The smile that meant he was still hiding. Still unaffected.

He didn't want Conrad to smile at him in that way. He wanted – needed – a smile meant just for him if he was to be truly with him. And when such a smile seemed unforthcoming, he had given up, defeated. Conrad's smile-that-meant-nothing defeated him, along with his correct-to-a-fault formality that Conrad used as a shield so effectively.

Was Yuuri ready, then, to pick up from where he had stopped moving? Was Conrad truly, consciously making himself vulnerable now, open to hurt, just for his sake?

Yuuri made himself look at Conrad unflinchingly, and could not see a smile anywhere in sight. The concern – yes, that was present, as it had always been. But that wasn't all there was. For the first time, Yuuri could see _fear_, quite clearly, in Conrad's eyes.

"I…"

He did not know how to respond to such an unfamiliar sight. His mind, aware as it was of the situation he now found himself in, was at a complete loss at what to do next.

Yuuri's body moved for him. As if caught in the web of a dream, Yuuri found himself wading forward without knowing how, closer to Conrad. Closer still. Conrad stood as motionless as a statue, his expression warring between disbelief and desperate, unconcealed hope.

"Yuuri-" Conrad sighed into Yuuri's mouth as Yuuri himself, still utterly unable to function properly, learned in and kissed him, at first chastely, and then not quite so. Conrad, for his part, seemed once again incapable of letting go of Yuuri once his arms had, of their own volition, moved to wrap themselves about Yuuri's waist. The water lapped gently about them, peacefully licking against their bodies, until-

"_No!_"

Yuuri gave a flustered, red-faced, and altogether undignified shriek of denial as he noticed what was happening. But now that the water had been quickened around his body, it would not let go. He saw the whirlpool appear and fasten itself against his feet, pulling him insistently downwards. Conrad had recovered and was in the midst of reaching for him when Yuuri was yanked beneath the surface with a sharp jerk.

"CONR!-"

Bubbles exploded about him. Now much further down, he saw Conrad extending an arm, felt Conrad's hand brush his own and slip by, missing its grip by scant millimetres.

"Mmph!"

And then he was falling, helpless, spinning, dizzy, breathless, gasping, Conrad-

_I'll be waiting for you. I'm not going anywhere._ Impossibly, Conrad's voice sounding softly in his head.

And then, abruptly, a splash, not unlike the one those two weeks ago in size, heralding his return to Earth.

As Yuuri leaned forward, frustrated, over the side of the bathtub, as his mother opened the door with an exuberant greeting, as his nose took in the smell of home-made curry coming from the kitchen, he knew he could not truly remain upset for long.

Not when, automatically licking the droplets of water away from his mouth, he could still taste Conrad on his lips.


	4. Epilogue

Yuuri was sulking.

It had been a week. One whole week.

Yuuri was used to missing home. He had gotten used to being in one place and missing the other, and gotten even more used to being whisked between his two homes at the most inconvenient times. He had resigned himself to this; it was simply part of being the Maou.

But he had never signed up for this. Missing home was one thing. Missing family was yet another. This was different again, and he went for long walks simply in an attempt to clear his head whenever it felt like he couldn't stand whatever it was that was making his stomach do somersaults (he was unable to communicate this to anyone else, although Shori looked like he wanted to say something to Yuuri numerous times, before settling for swallowing whatever it was and glaring a lot. His mother made even more curry than usual and beamed at Yuuri in a way that made him feel grateful and uncomfortable both at once).

He took a lot of baths, hoping at every second to be transported back to his second home. Conrad was waiting from him there – he had said so. But the water stubbornly refused to be moved, however much Yuuri muttered under his breath and splashed about experimentally and _waited_.

And this evening, he was sulking. The water had grown from steaming to tepid, and Yuuri had not moved for the past half hour, his arms resting over the side of the bathtub as he stared into nothing. _One whole week_, he thought to himself, and closed his eyes as he began the task of summing up the enthusiasm to get up.

When he opened them, the water in the bathtub had begun to churn. Yuuri did not have time to register anything else before the water exploded suddenly _upwards_. He gave a startled yelp and shielded his face with an arm, hearing the bath water overflow onto the tiled floor as the level dramatically rose.

After Yuuri warily lowered his arm, he could only gape in shock.

There was a very wet, very dazzling, very naked Conrad sitting across from him in the bath.

Yuuri suddenly wished that the bathwater was cooler still as the soldier looked at him, blinking in mild surprise. "Ah", he said, as if this was something that occurred every day. "Good evening, Heika."

"Um", said Yuuri intelligently, and tried not to stare too hard. Sadly, his eyes did not seem to want to cooperate. "Conrad, what-" He abruptly broke off as Conrad leaned forward, brushing a stray lock of dark, dripping hair from his eyes. Yuuri shivered as Conrad's hand lingered, palm to cheekbone. The look in the soldier's eyes was as yet unfamiliar, but it was enough to make Yuuri's blood race. His hips shifted involuntarily in response.

"Your pardon, Heika", said Conrad, and his voice had gained a somewhat huskier quality. "It seems I was unable to wait so very long after all."

His hand guided Yuuri's chin gently, insistently, upwards. More water sloshed to the floor as lips, bodies, met. Yuuri closed his eyes again.

It had only been one week.

He could not help but wonder how Conrad would have reacted had it been two.


End file.
